Hawk and Dove (Rock Star Romance Novel) (31 page)

“God Trent, I don’t know,” I tell him, my breath coming hard
and fast, “Why don’t you let me get through this tour, and then we can talk?”

“Why wait until the end of the tour?” he persists, “If you
decided now, we could make our debut right away!”

“Why are you pushing this?” I ask, a little alarmed by his
attitude.

“I...I’m sorry,” he says, “You’re right. I’m getting ahead
of myself...I guess I just want you to feel safe with us. Like you’re not going
to get hurt, or anything.”

“I don’t think that,” I tell him, a little confused. “
Should
I be worried?”

“No,” he says quickly, “No, of course not. Sorry, I’m an
asshole. I just want to protect you as best I can, is all.”

“If you want to protect me,” I say, “Don’t try so damn hard
to keep me safe.”

“That doesn’t quite follow,” he laughs.

“What I mean is, don’t hold on too tight,” I tell him, “That
always spells trouble.”

“Isn’t that what Joni Mitchell told Graham Nash?” he asks.

“Look at you!” I exclaim, “Pulling out the Joni Mitchell
trivia...Are you just trying to impress me?”

“If I can be honest,” he whispers, “I actually have a secret
music crush on Joni Mitchell. Always have. Don’t you dare tell anyone, you got
it?”

“Got it,” I laugh, shaking off his bout of
over-protectiveness. “Let’s get home, shall we? I’m sure they’re all waiting
for us.”

We start off through the back roads, sitting in silence. It
isn’t even awkward, just sitting with Trent without the distraction of
conversation. I’ve never felt that with a man, before. Usually, silence just
means that we’ve run out of things to talk about, but with Trent it’s
different.

Even without words, I feel like we’re sharing something,
just being here together. Our communication doesn’t depend on words and
phrases—our understanding of each other is far deeper than that.

I let my eyes wander over his body as we pull up to a red
light.

He leans back casually in my passenger seat, one knee bent.
His bright green eyes are gazing off into the middle distance, and his
well-muscled body is perfectly balanced in its stillness. I still get taken off
guard by how gorgeous he is, when I look at him long and hard like this.

But one thing has changed. I’m not worried anymore about
matching his physical perfection. I’m not worried about what we might look like
together, or who might have a problem with us. When we’re together, he makes me
feel like I’m his ideal woman, that there’s no one else in the world he’d
rather be with. I’ve never felt sexier in my life than I feel when I’m with
him. His own beauty doesn’t intimidate me anymore, because it isn’t just his
body that I’m in love with—it’s his soul, too.

“Eyes on the road, you,” he says, catching me staring at
him. I ease my foot onto the pedal as the light turns green. It’s a good thing
these roads are so familiar to me, because I’m having a hard time concentrating
on anything apart from how much I want Trent right now.

“You’re not too hungry, are you?” I ask, my voice riding low
in my register. My voice is always the first thing to betray my lust.

He looks over at me, intrigued by my tone. “That depends,”
he says, “On what kind of hunger we’re talking about.”

“I see,” I murmur. “Well, if you’re amenable to the
idea...we could always take the scenic route home. I wouldn’t mind showing you
a little more of my hometown before we head out.”

“Did you have a particular place in mind?” he asks, placing
a hand firmly on my bare inner thigh. I draw in a deep breath, trying to keep
my hands steady on the wheel.

“There’s a lovely grove out in the woods,” I breathe,
writhing a little as his fingers work further and further up my leg. I can feel
a deep, throbbing need growing between my legs even as I speak.

“That sounds great,” he purrs, leaning toward me. As I flip
on my turn signal, Trent lays a sweet kiss at the base of my neck, running his
fingertips along the skin of my thigh. I need to be out from behind the wheel
as soon as humanly possible, that much is for sure.

I reroute us as fast as I can, hurtling along the country
roads until we reach a little dirt path leading off into the thick woods. I
turn off into the forest, breathing deeply as Trent’s fingers graze against the
warm wetness just beyond the thin cotton of my panties. I’ve been back to this
little corner of the woods with a couple of beaus in my day, but never with the
sense of urgency that I have now.

“You’re going to make me drive us into a tree,” I moan,
navigating the bumpy trail.

“You’d better pull over then,” Trent growls, “Because I
don’t know how much longer I can keep from getting on top of you...”

I swerve off into a secluded clearing, throwing the car into
park and switching off the engine. Darkness engulfs us as we rush into each
other’s arms, out in the middle of deep, dark woods. I scramble onto my knees
in the driver’s seat, wrapping my arms around Trent’s shoulders. His fingers
brush aside the wet panel of fabric that rests against my slit, and I moan as
he begins to stroke me there. My thighs tremble as his fingers caress me,
moving deeper and deeper until finally sliding up within me.

My breath is coming in short little bursts as I tumble into
his lap, unable to keep upright as he begins to knead and flick my most
sensitive flesh.

He knows exactly how to touch me, precisely how to get me
off. I bring my mouth imploringly to his as he traces luscious circles around
that sensitive little nub, urging me onward toward the latest staggering
orgasm.

“I love making you feel good,” he groans in my ear, rubbing
me with dexterous, magnificent grace. I try to reply, but I can’t manage
anything but a low moan as that hot, familiar pressure builds up inside of me.

I grab onto him as I feel myself reaching the height of my
pleasure. He knows that I’m close, that I’m just about to topple over the edge.
Just before I come to the crest of that wave, he breaks off—lifting me up into
his arms and into the back seat. I let out a groan of anticipation, of even
more heightened need.

“I want to be there with you,” he says, sitting back against
the well-worn seat.

He doesn’t have to say it twice.

I reach for his belt with an urgency I’ve never known
before, ripping open the buckle and sliding his jeans down his firm thighs.
He’s already rock hard for me. I love that just touching me can do that to him.

Trent slips my panties down over my ass, and I wiggle free
from the flimsy garment as fast as I can. I’m straddling him on the backseat,
on top and savoring every moment.

He grabs onto my hips, looking up at me in the darkness.
Even here, his eyes glow like two bright emerald orbs. Slowly, I lower myself
down towards the hard length of his member. A groan rips from his throat as I
let the tip of him rest against my wet slit. I hover there for a moment,
letting him wait for it, just a little. I like taking control every once in a
while, I’m coming to find. With my hands planted firmly on his shoulders, I
lower myself just an inch, taking the bulging tip of him inside of me.

We breathe out together, relishing the feel of him sliding
slowly into me. Inch by inch, I take him—sliding down onto his rock hard shaft.
Finally, I find I can’t wait anymore.

"Get a condom," I say breathlessly.

He doesn't waste time, and quickly wraps his manhood.

I press down onto him, gasping as I feel him slip up, deep
inside my body. His fingers dig into the flesh of my hips as the sensation
overwhelms him.

For a moment, we stay perfectly still, just basking in the
feeling of meeting here, connecting in this most intimate of ways. But our
desire can’t be held at bay by wonder for very long.

As one, we move together, our bodies bucking wildly in the
backseat of my car. I brace myself against the roof, bouncing up and down on
the hard length of him. Further and further he drives up inside of me,
spreading me open with each passing thrust.

I lean into him, hungry for as much of him as I can take. I
want to feel every single inch of Trent as he drives ever further into me.

“Oh,” I gasp, as he looses a hand and brings it back down
between my legs. He starts to play with me again, rubbing and flicking me
toward bliss.

The rest of my words get caught in my throat as I’m rendered
speechless by thundering, unstoppable pleasure. I can feel him growing stiffer
inside of me, even as I careen toward orgasm with every passing moment. I know
that he’s right on the brink with me, that he’s about to lose it too.

I lower my eyes to his, wanting to share this moment with
him. His handsome features are screwed up into a blissful, earnest mask. I
muster up all the concentration I can manage and utter one word, my gaze locked
with his.

“
Come
.”

His pummeling member pulses within me, just as I’m
transported with him into pure ecstasy. We come together, our eyes closing in
bliss as the shockwaves of sensation pass through us. My fingers dig into
Trent’s shoulders as I feel him filling me.

He bucks his hips as my own orgasm rattles through me,
sweeping like wildfire over every single nerve. I slump against him, unable to
even sit up straight, and he wraps his strong arms around my waist, holding me
there. Our chests heave in unison, our breaths hot and heavy.

A choir of crickets serenades us from the forest as we
slowly regain our senses. I peer at him in the darkened backseat, grinning from
ear to ear.

“See what happens when you start pawing me?” I say, poking
my finger playfully into his chest.

“Yeah,” he says, “I’d better start pawing you more often.”

My laugh echoes in the enclosed car as I roll off him,
retrieving my panties from the floor. “I hope no one’s worried about where
we’ve gone off to,” I say.

“They can deal with it,” he says, straightening up. “We
can’t be held accountable for forces beyond our control.”

“Beyond our control is right,” I agree, clamoring back up
into the driver’s seat.

I guide my little sedan back onto the beaten path as Trent
pulls himself together. I have to admit, this inexhaustible lust thing is
working out just fine for me. But left to our own devices, I’m not sure how
we’d ever get anything done.

Luckily, we’ll have a touring schedule to keep us on track
for the rest of the summer.

We sail back to my little Victorian home, all smiles. Night
has fallen over Barton, and the fireflies are out in their full numbers.

As we climb out of the car and make our way back out to the
yard, I can already hear raucous voices blending together in song and
conversation. I open the back gate for Trent, and we come upon a most
remarkable and unexpected sight: my family and Trent’s band in the middle of
what appears to be a modest bacchanal.

“You guys started the party without us?” I exclaim, taking
in the scene.

There are plates piled high with all kinds of wholesome
goodies—fat ears of corn, fluffy rolls, the works—spread out all over the
picnic table. Our little fire pit is roaring heartily, illuminating the five
faces gathering around it.

Kate is sandwiched by Rodney and Rodger, and the trio
appears to be passing a bottle of merlot merrily between them.

Kenny and Mom sit across the way, arms thrown over each
other’s shoulders, in the middle of some drinking song or other. The assembled
partiers look up as we approach, greeting us with happy cheers.

“Hope you don’t mind that we got a move on!” Kate says, a
little tipsy.

“Not at all,” Trent grins, leading me toward the fire, “As
long as there are some eats and half a bottle left, I’m a happy camper.”

“Help yourself!” my Mom says, grinning happily, “It’s not
often that I get to party like a rock star, you know!”

“I’d say that the rock stars are partying like
you
tonight,” I tease her, sitting down before the blaze. “This is quite the
gathering, isn’t it?”

“You can’t tell anyone though,” Rodney says firmly, “It
would ruin our image. We’re supposed to be out trashing hotels rooms every
night, remember.”

“Ah, screw your image,” Kate says, punching him playfully on
the shoulders, “Haters to the left! Right? Right?”

“That’s right, Kate,” I tell her, accepting the bottle of
wine as it comes my way. Trent settles in next to me with a couple heaping
plates of food, and we dig in, having worked up quite the appetite on the way
over.

The conversation is easy, the wine plentiful, and the
company surprisingly perfect. The night wears on with song and laughter, and
I’m sure that I’ve never been this happy in my life. I don’t feel as though
I’ve come home again, exactly, because just about everything about my world has
changed since I was here last. But sitting here, with my family, and Trent, and
the band, I feel like I’m making some kind of tentative peace between my past
and my future.

I’m weaving together the two worlds I’ve been straddling,
finding new ways to seize my unknown future while holding my history near to my
heart. It’s a brand new sort of compromise, and maybe there will come a time
where I have to choose between who I’ve been and who I want to be...but not
tonight.

As the hours wear on, and heads begin to nod, we make our
way back inside.

The boys collapse on couches and sleeping bags as Mom and
Kate trudge upstairs. Trent practically carries me up to my old bedroom,
chuckling a little as he takes in how very pink most of my childhood
possessions are.

Gently, he lays me down on my familiar bed, snuggling in
beside me. We barely fit on my slim little mattress, but it will do for the
night. We’ll see plenty of sprawling beds and king sized suites this summer,
but for tonight we rest like regular people.

In my final moments before sleep, I wonder at the strange,
magical turn my life has taken.